NICU

Love's missing ingredient.

My first moments of motherhood are etched in my brain in indelible print. Sitting by my son's incubator day after tedious day, I tried to glimpse his body through the tangled wires and machinery. When the Huggies newborn diaper covers your baby from head to toe, it's enough to make any new mother wonder if she got more than she bargained for.

And so I sat, and sat, and sat. I was not allowed to hold him due to the line that he had running into his umbilical artery through his microscopic bellybutton. Instead I moved aside the tangled rainbow of wires, and tried to find a fuzzy place to stroke. I had read that massaging premature infants was a stimulant for them and this kid sure could have used some of that.

He was our child, and through many weeks of intensive care, we staked that claim over and over again.

When he reached a stage where he was ready for food, we were jubilant. Feeding meant draining my own body of milk, and sending a few drops of it down a tube that started in his nose and ended in his stomach cavity. My husband held the tube, and I held the baby (finally!). It was the closest thing to mother/child bonding you could find in the neo-natal intensive care unit.

Midnight was weighing and bathing time. We learned to do it all ourselves, rendering the nurses extraneous (almost). We burned the midnight oil night after night in that hospital, like truckers guarding a big haul.

He was our child, and through many weeks of intensive care, we staked that claim over and over again. Like a pioneer explorer sticking his post in a mound of dirt, I claimed my little slip of a life, through a stroke of the cheek, an original lullaby, and a drop down the feeding tube.

Love was in the air.

NATURE OF LOVE

In his treatise on kindness, Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler makes a groundbreaking statement on the nature of love. He posits that a relationship based upon giving is one in which love will grow ad infinitum. Why? Because love is an outgrowth of the giving process.

My students often had a bone to pick with this theory. In a loving relationship, isn't giving a natural outgrowth of love? It was a matter of which came first, the chicken or the egg, but the implications were far reaching. In their eyes, love was an electrical impulse that translated into giving. According to Rabbi Dessler, the more you give, the more electrical current you create in your relationships. He puts the steering wheel in our hands, instead of leaving it up to some inexplicable force.

I must admit, I empathized with their point of contention. As a new mother, I knew that my love for my child was just that -- intangible and beautiful, unforced and uncultivable.

Approximately two years after our first child was born, I found myself sitting in the same neonatal unit with son number two. This one was a "hefty" 33-weeker. We were miles past son number one. Sitting there after delivery, I watched his wan face redden as he tried to cry, but emitted no sound, as the respirator was suppressing his larynx. He was not ready for food yet, and I stored God's precious elixir in little bottles in the NICU freezer.

It was all the same. The grey tweed upholstered chairs, the nurses in their one piece pinks, and the pungent smell of antiseptic soap. I felt as if I were watching a re-run of a medical drama.

I was discharged without my child, and again that old familiar feeling of stepping over the threshold of our home without the tiny life that I had to leave behind. I knew, though, what the next few weeks heralded. I would be there the next morning.

My loyalties were painfully divided over the next weeks between my emotionally needy toddler at home, and the tiny bundle lying supine in his incubator. I ran to the hospital each morning to fulfill my duty, and then rushed back to pick up my eldest from playgroup. Whenever feasible, I returned a second time in the evening, but I had to go back and relieve my husband so that he could visit as well. I felt as if some very core part of me was torn in half, somewhere deep inside where my brain didn't seem to reach.

My husband went to the hospital often to check on our baby. He brought me back reports, some of which I relished. Others I would have preferred not to hear.

I knew things were different within me that first Shabbat afternoon that son number two was in the hospital. "Yael, do you want to walk over to see the baby?" my husband asked.

"Nah. You go. I'm tired. I need to build up my strength. I'm still just after birth." (That never stopped me before.)

My husband just kind of raised his eyebrows and looked at me askance. He went. I stayed. Cocooned in my blanket, I could almost pretend that my life was on cruise control.

I did what I had to do. I did not in any way neglect my responsibilities as a parent to either of my children. That is why I am not sure why it took me for a spin when someone offhandedly remarked later that week:

I must really love that baby. I mean, of course I must. Which mother does not love her child?

"You must really love that baby!"

I must really love that baby. I mean, of course I must. Which mother does not love her child? I thought of him for a moment, with the little gauze strip covering his eyes to protect him from the bilirubin lights. He looked like he was tanning when I saw him this morning.

"I mean, obviously," I replied.

I went back to my dishes, scrubbing away bits of residue with a vengeance. Do I love my child? My baby? Is there anything more inglorious than a mother who doesn't love her child? Am I that type?

A few weeks later we brought him home. This strange child that I had been visiting all this time was now sleeping in my bedroom. The indispensable nurses were dispensed of. At three in the morning I awoke from my half-sleep to his cry. I picked him up -- a four-pound butterball, and I nestled him in my arms. I breathed in the fresh scent of Johnson's baby bath and I ran my nose softly along the rim of his scalp. I watched him open and close his little mouth, looking, looking for me. He needed me. He needed me!

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About the Author

Yael Mermelstein M.S. is the author of thousands of magazine articles and has seven published books. Her stories have also been published in textbooks and have been approved by the Israeli Ministry of Education for inclusion in the English matriculation exams.Her latest book, Dual Secrets, has recently been released by Artscroll/Mesorah. She lives in Israel with her family.

Visitor Comments: 12

(12)
DEBY,
March 6, 2013 11:20 AM

Giving creates love

Thank you for your beautiful article!
Not only will giving deepen an existing love, it can create it where none existed.
Some people who have either wronged me or who just rub me the wrong way, and ill-feelings linger much longer than desired, this is a tried-and-true remedy: Just give and give and give again, eventually the feelings become more positive and can even be replaced by love.

(11)
Ben Adler,
September 9, 2005 12:00 AM

Inspiration

I was touched and inspired by Yael Mermelstein's article. Motherhood alone is a significant change to deal with - how much more so when the child is in the NICU. I thought Ms. Mermelstein gave a realistic depiction of what it feels like to be a NICU parent. Thank you for a beautiful article.

(10)
Talya Spitzer,
September 1, 2005 12:00 AM

made me think

As a mother of five children, I really agree with Ms. Mermelstein's assertion that love stems from giving. While I was fotunate that none of my children were in the NICU after birth, my babies still needed me (especially the last two, who are twins). My urge to 'mother' my babies was primal and instinctive, and ultimately rewarding and satisfying. By giving my babies everything they needed, and by continuing to do so as they grow (my oldest is almost 10), the love between us continues to develop and flourish.
Thank you for a beautiful and thought-provoking article.

(9)
Michael,
August 30, 2005 12:00 AM

Incredible strength.

Wow. This article was well written, and I cannot imagine having to go through two children in the NICU. I like the "Nature of Love" statement too. Often giving before you might have reason to can start a loving relationship. Most of my friends are people who I have helped or they have helped me for no obvious reason but to do so.

(8)
Odelia,
August 30, 2005 12:00 AM

Poignant

Thank you for your beautiful and poignant illustration of how love stems from giving. I feel like I understand it better now.

(7)
Aura Slovin,
August 30, 2005 12:00 AM

NICU Nurse responds.......

As a Neonatal Intensive Care Nurse, I can relate to all your experiences vis-a-vis your precious package - no matter what size they come in.....G-D programs parents to feel that connection to their children. I loved the littlest ones and empathized with parents who were 'fearful' of holding their preemies.
You are right on the money re: Giving Love will result in a windfall of rewards. The same concept can be applied to Marriage. Those most happily married I found were those who did not keep a score card but rather were committed to Giving of their time, attention and communicating their love to their spouse.
I have moved on since my "NICU" days, but I will always have a special place in my heart for my smallest patients and their families.

(6)
Jacquie,
August 30, 2005 12:00 AM

wow

i read this article with tears pouring down my face, having two children of my own, i cannot begin to imagine what it must be like to have to experience of not being able to cradle your newborn child in your arm(a feeling which words truely cannot describe)Both my babies were overdue and i suffered a few minor complications during both pregnancies, but i'm glad to say both were healthy 8lb 14oz and 9lb 9oz.A mothers love is unconditional and to give goes without a thought. I wish you all the happiness in the world. Thanks to Aish.com for the fantastic articles your hard work does not go unappreciated. xxx

(5)
Anonymous,
August 29, 2005 12:00 AM

Mazal Tov , Beautifully written

(4)
barbara segal,
August 29, 2005 12:00 AM

a beautiful, warm and courageous story.
i felt like i was there with her,experiencing the struggles with fear, ambivalence and overwhelming love.
i'd love to read more of her stories.

(3)
ilana green,
August 28, 2005 12:00 AM

an inspiration

how sad it must be to come home without your baby and not know how your baby will fare! it's inspiring to read how people deal with adversity

(2)
MARILYN BURTON,
August 28, 2005 12:00 AM

MIRACLES

WE TOO HAVE WALKED THIS PATH. WE HAVE TWO MIRACLES. SAMUEL DAVID WAS 2LB 7OZS AT BIRTH AND TINY JOSEPH MICHAEL WAS 1LB 14OZS. NOW THEY ARE 17.5YRS AND 14YRS AND FINE STRAPPING LADS.
I CAN REMEMBER WHEN JOSEPH WAS ABOUT 6 WEEKS - I TRIED TO TELL THE NEONATAL STAFF HE WAS NOT HIMSELF - HE SEEMED PALE AND A LITTLE BREATHLESS - THEY WERE SURE HE WAS FINE, BUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT THEY RANG US AT HOME TO SAY HE WAS BEING TRANSFERED BACK TO THE SCNU FOR A BLOOD TRANSFUSION.I WILL NEVER FORGET SEEING HIM NAKED IN HIS INCUBATOR IN THE EARLY MORNING. HE WAS SO PINK AND BEAUTIFUL AND JUST LOOKED THROUGH THE INCUBATOR PERSPEX WITH SUCH BIG TRUSTING EYES - I FELL IN LOVE WITH HIM THAT DAY. ALL THE STRUGGLES DUE TO LACK OF BONDING FADED AWAY.TODAY HE TOLD ME HE LOVED ME, AS HE LEFT FOR SCHOOL AND I AM SO PROUD OF HIM.

(1)
Stacey Mandel,
August 28, 2005 12:00 AM

Having my baby stay in the NICU for 10 weeks forced me to fully depend on G-d, and ultimately re-ignited my Jewish pride.

My baby girl came into the world at just barely 28 weeks gestation. It was completely unexpected, and is still unexplained. This story reminds me of my "NICU time". In addition to going through a similiar experience to the author's, I remember feeling completely out of control of my life. I had no choice but to pray as hard as I could, and make promises with all of my heart and then let
G-d work. I had thought my baby depended on ME, my womb, my nourishment, my intention. Seeing her tubed & wired translucent body lying in the incubator, without nipples, without hardened cartilage, without our umbilical connection-- I had a tangible example of quite the contrary. The work, the healing, the growth that needed to be done could not be performed by anyone, anything else but G-d. My Jewish G-d. I, a fairly unobservant Reform Jew, was suddenly, fiercely grateful to be Jewish. To know that my G-d was a compassionate one, a caring one, a hearing one, a righteous one-- who would take care of my baby however he deemed best.

My baby just celebrated her 1 year birthday, and she is doing magnificently. Her life is a gift that I do not take for granted. I do not take anything for granted anymore. Also, I have since started a Jewish baby gift business, and use part of my proceeds to give complimentary handmade tie-dyed "Chai" onesies with notes of encouragement to Jewish babies healing in NICUS.

Anyone who knows of a family who would like to have such a onesie delivered to their baby's isolette should contact me at stacey@gefiltepish.com or 610-789-7270.

I'm told that it's a mitzvah to become intoxicated on Purim. This puzzles me, because to my understanding, it is not considered a good thing to become intoxicated, period.

One of the characteristics of the at-risk youth is their use of drugs, including alcohol. In my experience, getting drunk doesn't reveal secrets. It makes people act stupid and irresponsible, doing things they would never do if they were sober. Also, I know a lot about the horrible health effects of abusing alcohol, because I work at a research center that focuses on addiction and substance abuse.

Also, I am an alcoholic, which means that if I drink, very bad things happen. I have not had a drink in 22 years, and I have no intention of starting now. Surely there must be instances where a person is excused from the obligation to drink. I don't see how Judaism could ever promote the idea of getting drunk. It just doesn't seem right.

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Putting aside for a moment all the spiritual and philosophical reasons for getting drunk on Purim, this remains an issue of common sense. Of course, teenagers should be warned of the dangers of acute alcohol ingestion. Of course, nobody should drink and drive. Of course, nobody should become so drunk to the point of negligence in performing mitzvot. And of course, a recovering alcoholic should not partake of alcohol on Purim.

Indeed, the Code of Jewish Law explicitly says that if one suspects the drinking may affect him negatively, then he should NOT drink.

Getting drunk on Purim is actually one of the most difficult mitzvot to do correctly. A person should only drink if it will lead to positive spiritual results - e.g. under the loosening affect of the alcohol, greater awareness will surface of the love for God and Torah found deep in the heart. (Perhaps if we were on a higher spiritual level, we wouldn't need to get drunk!)

Yet the Talmud still speaks of an obligation on Purim of "not knowing the difference between Blessed is Mordechai and Cursed is Haman." How then should a person who doesn't drink get the point of “not knowing”? Simple - just go to sleep! (Rama - OC 695:2)

All this applies to individuals. But the question remains - does drinking on Purim adversely affect the collective social health of the Jewish community?

The aversion to alcoholism is engrained into Jewish consciousness from a number of Biblical and Talmudic sources. There are the rebuking words of prophets - Isaiah 28:1, Hosea 3:1 with Rashi, and Amos 6:6, and the Zohar says that "The wicked stray after wine" (Midrash Ne'alam Parshat Vayera).

It is well known that the rate of alcoholism among Jews has historically been very low. Numerous medical, psychological and sociological studies have confirmed this. The connection between Judaism and sobriety is so evident, that the following conversation is reported by Lawrence Kelemen in "Permission to Receive":

When Dr. Mark Keller, editor of the Quarterly Journal of Studies on Alcohol, commented that "practically all Jews do drink, and yet all the world knows that Jews hardly ever become alcoholics," his colleague, Dr. Howard Haggard, director of Yale's Laboratory of Applied Physiology, jokingly proposed converting alcoholics to the Jewish religion in order to immerse them in a culture with healthy attitudes toward drinking!

Perhaps we could suggest that it is precisely because of the use of alcohol in traditional ceremonies (Kiddush, Bris, Purim, etc.), that Jews experience such low rates of alcoholism. This ceremonial usage may actually act like an inoculation - i.e. injecting a safe amount that keeps the disease away.

Of course, as we said earlier, all this needs to be monitored with good common sense. Yet in my personal experience - having been in the company of Torah scholars who were totally drunk on Purim - they acted with extreme gentleness and joy. Amid the Jewish songs and beautiful words of Torah, every year the event is, for me, very special.

Adar 12 marks the dedication of Herod's renovations on the second Holy Temple in Jerusalem in 11 BCE. Herod was king of Judea in the first century BCE who constructed grand projects like the fortresses at Masada and Herodium, the city of Caesarea, and fortifications around the old city of Jerusalem. The most ambitious of Herod's projects was the re-building of the Temple, which was in disrepair after standing over 300 years. Herod's renovations included a huge man-made platform that remains today the largest man-made platform in the world. It took 10,000 men 10 years just to build the retaining walls around the Temple Mount; the Western Wall that we know today is part of that retaining wall. The Temple itself was a phenomenal site, covered in gold and marble. As the Talmud says, "He who has not seen Herod's building, has never in his life seen a truly grand building."

Some people gauge the value of themselves by what they own. But in reality, the entire concept of ownership of possessions is based on an illusion. When you obtain a material object, it does not become part of you. Ownership is merely your right to use specific objects whenever you wish.

How unfortunate is the person who has an ambition to cleave to something impossible to cleave to! Such a person will not obtain what he desires and will experience suffering.

Fortunate is the person whose ambition it is to acquire personal growth that is independent of external factors. Such a person will lead a happy and rewarding life.

With exercising patience you could have saved yourself 400 zuzim (Berachos 20a).

This Talmudic proverb arose from a case where someone was fined 400 zuzim because he acted in undue haste and insulted some one.

I was once pulling into a parking lot. Since I was a bit late for an important appointment, I was terribly annoyed that the lead car in the procession was creeping at a snail's pace. The driver immediately in front of me was showing his impatience by sounding his horn. In my aggravation, I wanted to join him, but I saw no real purpose in adding to the cacophony.

When the lead driver finally pulled into a parking space, I saw a wheelchair symbol on his rear license plate. He was handicapped and was obviously in need of the nearest parking space. I felt bad that I had harbored such hostile feelings about him, but was gratified that I had not sounded my horn, because then I would really have felt guilty for my lack of consideration.

This incident has helped me to delay my reactions to other frustrating situations until I have more time to evaluate all the circumstances. My motives do not stem from lofty principles, but from my desire to avoid having to feel guilt and remorse for having been foolish or inconsiderate.

Today I shall...

try to withhold impulsive reaction, bearing in mind that a hasty act performed without full knowledge of all the circumstances may cause me much distress.

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